#booker writes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

youssefguedira · 22 days

Text

wrote this instead of doing any of my actual tasks <3 tw for brief mention of animal death (by hunting)

Yusuf has been dreading this since the moment they left for Akkala. He had made as many excuses as he could to stay in Goron City for as long as he could, but every one had run out in the end, and he could no longer put off the inevitable.

The first time he had walked this road, his father had accompanied him with a platoon of guards, still cautious, still reeling from the attack that had taken Yusuf's mother. The second time there had been fewer, but still many.

In the years after that, the number of people sent with him had decreased even further until it was only two or three guards, enough to keep him safe. His father stopped accompanying him on these journeys after he turned fourteen and there had been no sign of their worth.

Now, only Nicolò.

He follows, keeping a respectful distance away from Yusuf, but closer than he had walked before they had gone to meet Nile, to ask for her help. He doesn't ever ask to stop, or to slow down, letting Yusuf set the pace. He keeps a hand on the hilt of his sword and does not speak.

What is there to be said? Nicolò knows what lies at the end of this road, even if he does not know what it will mean for Yusuf.

Yusuf can feel Nicolò's eyes on his back. It is bad enough that the whole kingdom knows he is a failure: he does not need Nicolò to watch him fail and say nothing.

The sun is low, casting the landscape in burnt orange. It would be beautiful were it not so horribly familiar. There is a cabin nearby, and not far from it, the Spring. They will stay in the cabin tonight; they will leave for the Spring in the morning and spend three days there, then return to Goron City and after that, the castle.

Yusuf thinks about returning, about his father's inevitable disappointment, and feels sick.

“Yusuf,” Nicolò says, sounding uncertain. He is not yet used to calling Yusuf by his name. “We are not far, yes?”

Yusuf had forgotten that Nicolò does not know every cursed inch of this road the way Yusuf does. “No, not far. In a moment you'll see the cabin.”

Nicolò says nothing. Yusuf glances back just long enough to meet his eyes before looking away.

What is Nicolò thinking? Yusuf can never tell.

Yusuf catches sight of the cabin a moment later. Dread sits like a stone in his stomach.

When they get closer, Nicolò takes hold of his elbow, gentle. It startles Yusuf all the same - he hadn't realised Nicolò was that close to him.

“Let me go first,” Nicolò says. “To check. But stay close.”

Yusuf nods, and lingers barely a handspan from Nicolò's back while he surveys first the outside, then the inside, of the cabin. Once he's satisfied, he gestures for Yusuf to enter.

“You should rest,” he says, and he is being so gentle with Yusuf it almost hurts. Perhaps Andromache has told him what this will mean for him: she has accompanied him before.

Yusuf shakes his head, because sleep means dreams, and dreams will be worse. “What are you going to do?”

“I am going to find something for dinner,” Nicolò says.

“Let me come with you,” Yusuf says. Anything is better than sitting in this cabin alone with his thoughts.

Nicolò looks at him for a long moment. Perhaps he takes pity on Yusuf, or perhaps he thinks that it will be easier to keep Yusuf safe if he stays with Nicolò. Either way, he nods. “All right.”

----------

Finding something for dinner means that Nicolò leads Yusuf a little way into the woods, far enough that the foliage and the dying sunlight makes it difficult to see, and bids him hide beneath a tree, in a space formed by the roots, while Nicolò crouches beside him with his bow, nocking an arrow in one smooth, seamless motion. From his vantage point, Yusuf can see a small clearing with a few fallen trees.

“Do not move,” Nicolò instructs him in a whisper, “and do not make a sound.”

Yusuf rests his head against the tree and watches the leaves move in the breeze. It is quiet enough that all he can hear is their rustling, the sounds of birds and animals calling to each other, the rushing of the stream nearby. After a moment, and with nothing else to watch, Yusuf begins to watch Nicolò.

He has gone as still and as quiet as the trees around them, barely breathing, his shoulders rising and falling only slightly, like he has become a part of the forest. Faron Woods is much further south from here, but Yusuf supposes that this forest must be somewhat similar to where Nicolò grew up. He wonders who taught him to hunt; who taught him to be so comfortable in this place. Why he left it behind to travel to the castle and work for the king.

There are a lot of things Yusuf wonders about him. He cannot tell if Nicolò is aware of Yusuf’s watching; he must be. Still, Yusuf cannot help but watch.

It happens faster than Yusuf can track. Nicolò goes entirely still, and draws his bow swiftly, silently. Yusuf holds his breath and so does the forest.

Nicolò lets the arrow fly.

Yusuf doesn’t see whether it finds its mark, but Nicolò looks for a moment and then stands. “Wait here,” he says to Yusuf, and then heads for the clearing. When he returns he’s carrying something behind his back, the arrow in his other hand. Blood drips onto the grass.

“You can wait inside while I prepare it, if you prefer,” Nicolò says haltingly. Yusuf shakes his head, and so he sits on a log outside while Nicolò skins the rabbit, arms wrapped around his knees and chin drawn up to his chest. Nicolò keeps his back to Yusuf, shielding most of it from view.

Who taught him this? Yusuf wonders. It is a part of Nicolò he has never seen before.

When it is done, he takes it back inside to cook over the fire, and they eat it alongside the bread and cheese they brought from Goron City, across from each other at the cabin’s little table.

“When do you want to leave, tomorrow?” Nicolò asks softly.

“I don’t,” Yusuf says before he can stop himself, and then adds, “I don’t know. Early, probably.” The thought bursts the little bubble he’s been in since they arrived. He doesn’t want to leave, could stay here for the three days they’ve been allocated and return to his father without even having tried and it would change nothing.

“Just after sunrise, then,” Nicolò says. “It is not far, you said?”

Yusuf shakes his head. “No,” he says. “Not far.”

----------

The water is freezing.

It has always been freezing. But Yusuf knows well enough that if he stands in it for long enough, it will start to warm. It reaches to around halfway up his thigh; when he was younger, it felt deeper.

The stone in front of him offers nothing. No sign, no indication that anything is listening to him except for the water and Nicolò, who has been standing at the gate of the Spring for however long he has been in here. Has he been listening? Has he heard Yusuf pleading for something, anything, dreading the moment he returns to the castle and his father looks down at his left hand and sees nothing there?

What does Nicolò think of him now? If he did not see a failure before, does he see one now?

His legs may be going numb. They tremble beneath him, struggling to hold his weight. How long has he been standing here?

“Tell me what I am doing wrong,” he begs the stone. His voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere else. “I know I am not the one you wanted, but I am trying. I am trying. I have given everything. I do not know how much more I have left.”

The stone says nothing.

Nicolò says, “Yusuf.”

Yusuf hears him without listening, falls to his knees in the water and does not even feel the chill.

“Please,” he pleads. “I cannot return – I cannot give anymore.”

There is a splash behind him, and then there is Nicolò, pulling him to his feet, pulling him from the water. Yusuf tries to hold fast - he cannot leave now or it will have been three days in the Spring with nothing to show for it.

“Yusuf,” Nicolò says again. His grip is gentle but unrelenting, and he is warm. Yusuf, shivering as he is, can’t help but lean into it. “You are exhausted. You are going to freeze. Come with me.”

“I can’t,” Yusuf says, even as he lets Nicolò take his weight, lets him guide Yusuf out of the Spring. “I can’t.”

There is a small paved area where their camp is set up. Nicolò has kept the fire going, or restarted it, while Yusuf was in there, and he half-carries Yusuf over to it now. Yusuf’s legs buckle under him the moment Nicolò lets him go, and he sinks onto something soft laid over the paving stones. He blinks, and there is a bowl in his hands, warming even if he does not really taste it.

“It was never supposed to be me,” Yusuf says without really meaning to.

From across the fire, Nicolò watches him.

“It was supposed to be my mother,” Yusuf whispers. The only sound between them is the crackling of the fire. Yusuf is so, so tired. He has never said this to anybody else, not even Andromache, but he cannot keep the words from rushing out of him now.

“It came to her when she was nineteen,” he says, “and that’s how they knew it would happen in her lifetime. So she trained, and she mastered it, and we were ready. And then she was killed, and because I was the oldest, it came to me.”

He does not like thinking about this. He has not thought about this in years. They do not speak of it anymore.

Nicolò is still watching him.

“I was asleep when it happened,” Yusuf continues. “I dreamt it as it happened, but I didn’t know until later. The moment she died, I woke up screaming. They told me afterwards that I was– I was glowing, bright enough that nobody could look at me for long or get close enough to see what was happening to me. They just had to wait until I came out of it. It felt like I was burning.” If he closes his eyes, he is there again, twelve years old and terrified.

“That’s how we know it should be me,” he says after a moment. “Who can do it. Because I did, once, but never again, despite all of this.” He waves at the Spring, the water, the stone.

Exhaustion tugs at him. His eyes will not stay open, but he cannot let himself fall asleep, not yet.

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” he tells Nicolò. “There’s still time.” It cannot be late yet; the sun has gone down, but it is not quite dark. “Don’t let me.”

“You have to rest,” Nicolò says. It is the first thing he has said to Yusuf since he pulled him from the Spring, and Yusuf cannot tell what he is thinking.

“I can’t fall asleep,” Yusuf insists.

“At least let yourself warm up first,” Nicolò says. There is a pile of dry clothes in his hands - where did he get them?

Nicolò convinces him to change and to sit back down, to rest a little while longer. This time he steers Yusuf to sit down on his bedroll instead, and Yusuf’s grip on his arm goes tight.

“Don’t let me fall asleep,” he says again.

“You cannot go on like this,” Nicolò says. “Sleep, and I will wake you in a few hours’ time.”

Yes, a few hours. That, Yusuf can afford. “Promise me,” Yusuf says, but his eyes are already closing unbidden.

Nicolò says nothing.

----------

When Yusuf wakes, it is still dark outside, and there is a cloak that is not his own draped over him. Nicolò is crouched over the fire only a short distance away. He catches Yusuf’s eye, but doesn’t say a word.

It all comes crashing back at once: the water, the stone, Nicolò. Yusuf sits up.

“You didn’t wake me,” he says.

Nicolò watches him for a long moment. “You needed the rest,” he says finally.

Suddenly his consideration stings. “That wasn’t your decision to make. What time is it?”

Nicolò glances at the sky. “It will be sunrise soon.”

Yusuf’s heart sinks. Sunrise means return, means return to the castle and his father with nothing. He gets up, pushes Nicolò’s cloak aside. “You should have woken me.”

Unexpectedly, Nicolò pushes back. “You would have only made yourself ill. You were barely conscious. I would not have done it if–” “That was not your decision to make,” Yusuf snaps. “I am not a child, Nicolò. I am capable of handling myself. I have lost hours.”

Nicolò does not say anything. Yusuf almost wishes he would keep pushing, but he does not. He simply folds himself back into the same blank expression he always carries, and again, Yusuf cannot read him.

“If the sun will rise soon, there is not much use in staying here for much longer,” Nicolò says eventually, quiet. He doesn’t meet Yusuf’s eyes. Guilt twists his stomach.

Did Nicolò know? Did Andromache warn him? Or was he just worried?

Yusuf nods.

They pack up their camp in silence, side by side. By the time they set off on the road back towards Goron City, the sun has risen, and the early light turns the world around them to gold.

Yusuf walks, and Nicolò follows behind him, as always.

#neon writes #the zelda au which lives only in my head #spring of power baby! if this seems vaguely familiar setup wise its because ive moved the vague plot of the mount lanayru ficlet here #this is a fairly early stage in their relationship booker is the 3rd champion they find (before andy who's the last)#so like. yusuf is warming up to him (hence him actually talking to nicolo) but is still. going through his whole deal #he'll apologise i promise hes just having a rough go of it the springs are a bit of a touchy subject #spring of power btw. nicolo on the other hand has not quite realised the full extent of whats up wrt yusuf and the springs #and his father generally. he doesnt think yusufs a failure tho thats just yusufs brain #anyway ive been replaying age of calamity and Wow botw zelda is the character of all time. for sure. obsessed with her #so i'm channeling that into this. feat. the reveal of what happened with yusufs mom #anyway. enjoy <3 #the old guard #kaysanova #fine main tag. whatever. this is for me and the 2 people who have expressed interest in this au #it haunts me daily

35 notes · View notes

writing-with-emy · 9 months

Note

Hello, I would like to request #17 Outerbanks Femreader. Reader falls in love with both John B and JJ ( Secretly) she finally tells kie and goes to confess John B and kisses him. Something like this, I trust you 💕 I love your work and I'm really excited to see what you come up with 💕

Invisible String - John B x F!reader

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | JOHN B MASTERLIST | PROMPTS Shipping: John B x f!reader, Summary: You were in Love with your two Best Friends, until Kie brought you some light in this dark and complicated Situation. Wordcount: 2.533 Words Warnings: Drinking, some curse words, lovesick reader I think that was it. A/N: Yes, the Title is inspired by the Song “Invisible String” by Taylor Swift, because I’m going to the Eras tour next year. A bit of angst and Fluff. I know you wrote secretly but in my head JJ just knows when a girl has a crush on him, but he wouldn’t notice it if he had a crush on the girl too. And as always feel free to correct me if I make any mostakes, as English is not my first language. (not part of 'Emy's Eras Event)

When there was something more stupid than jumping in a shark tank with a really bad bleeding wound, then it would be letting JJ come up with a plan, or being in love with two of your Best Friends who you knew nearly all your life. JJ and John B couldn’t be more different and still be the same, so falling for them kinda was crazy by itself. Well okay, at first you thought there was nothing really between you and John B because JJ owned your heart first in a more romantic way than the others. That most certainly changed when John B was nearly drowned by Topper at the last party, wasn’t it for JJ pointing a Gun at his head or when you watched him sneaking away with Sarah Cameron, the Kook princess.

John B was your Friend for nearly all your life, Eleven Years and counting, there was always something different about you and JB, like stolen touches or cuddles when you had a movie night at the chateau, well the cuddles died out when you guys became older and you starting to notice your feelings towards JJ, but the stolen touches were still there. But since the fight and watching John B almost drown, you notice a change within yourself towards your Best Friend. Since that Day you got more close to John B and questioned every move not only you made but also your friends. Now don’t get me wrong, JJ didn’t mind the attention you gave him, because he probably would most definitely notice when a girl has a crush on him unless he does have one on the girl too. But he knew John B liked you since probably fifth grade, when they played a round of truth or dare and told JJ his little secret even though that could’ve changed over the years. Well you told no one the problem you had with the both of them, not even Kie, your Best, and only girl, Friend.

It was a few days later and you all were sitting in the Front yard, if you can call it that way, of the chateau, when JJ tried to shotgun a beer and sadly the half on it got on you because you were sitting right next to him. You just jumped up, when the cold stinky beer made contact with your clothes and the skin of your legs, just screaming JJs name. Kie just ran into the House, getting a towel, coming back and trying to get most of the beer away from your skin and clothes. “You know, I think I actually hate you.”, you said, looking at JJ. “Yeah, I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.”; he just said, winking at you, before getting another can. “Shit, I think when we wash your pants and shirt in the sink, the smell and liquid is atleast a bit out.”, Kie said, looking at you. “Do you have any spare pants with you?”, you asked. “No, not right now.”, she said, shaking her head. “You can have some from me.”; John B said. “God, you are an angel JB.”, you said, giving him a thankful smile. He ran in to get some pants, well his only clean ones were some swimming ones, but they would need to make it. “What about your Shirt?”, Kie asked. “Well, I’m wearing my Bikini, so that's not a problem.”, you said, before you heard John B's steps coming from the House. “Here, there are only clean ones right now.”, he said, giving you the Swimming shorts. “Thank you, they’re gonna make it.”, you stated, beaming up at him, but before anyone could stare at the other for too long, JJ broke the Moment asking John B if he wants another beer. So you changed into the shorts of John B, before sitting with Kie on the Hammock.

You had no Idea how long you guys were there just talking, when JJ came up with a Plan, to go into the Kooks neighborhood to look for some fancy house, that is probably not lived in right now, because the owners are on vacation or some sort. And because you’re all a bit tipsy you all said yes, even though you and Kie weren’t really Fans with the Plan. So you all made your way to the Twinkie, when you walked beside John B who was most, next to JJ, excited about that Idea.

“You really think that this is a smart Idea?”you asked, looking at him. “Nope.”, he said looking at you. “Good, I’d be concerned if you did.”, you said laughing slightly. “But it is better than boredom.”, he said, throwing his arm around your shoulder.

With that you got into the twinkie, John B holding the door to the passenger side open for you.

After a bit of digging on facebook and driving around figure eight, you found a house where you found a spot for the twinkie, away enough so no one would notice it, but near enough if you needed to escape the cops. So you make your way to the Back of the House, climbing over the fence and quietly making your way to the pool. You all got rid of your clothes, that shouldn’t get wet and Jumped in, but since JJ couldn’t forget the most important part, the beer, he threw to each one of you another, before jumping in and opening his. You guys seriously had the time of your life there, it was in the middle of the night, everyone was asleep and you hopefully wouldn't get cops soon. But to your dismay, you saw the red and Blue light, before you could hear them, you tried to get their attention, but they didn’t listen until they heard Shoupe yell that you should come out. The boys were the first to get out, before helping you and Kie out.

"Shit. Shit. Shit!”, you said, fastly putting it on, before grabbing your shoes and running after them with KIe. “This is the worst plan ever, JJ!”, you said to him. “Why, because I made it?”, he asked looking back at you. “That, and because the cops are now out for our asses!”, you said, hitting him on the arm. JJ was the first to Jump over the fence and run towards the Twinkie getting it started, driving it out of its hiding spot so you just needed to Jump in. John B and Pope helped you and Kie over it, before Jumping over themselves. John B grabbed your hand dragging you with him, laughing. You saw Shoupe behind you already out of breath trying to catch you. “How do we keep getting into these Situations?”, you laughed looking at John B. “Eleven years of Friendship and I still don’t know.”, he said grinning. “The problem is called JJ.”, Pope said, which you all agreed. Once at the Twinkie you Jumped in and told JJ to drive, laughing your asses off in the Back high on adrenaline.

A half an hour later, you guys were back at the Chateau, the adrenaline finally back to zero and tired of the running you needed to do. You got in and all you did, was just falling on that couch and be nearly immediately asleep, and beside you were the first to go in, you didn’t even notice how John B came in to check on you just to find you on the couch already asleep, so he went back into his room, got a blanket and put it over you before he brushes some hair out of your face. “You love her don’t you?”, JJ asked beyond John B. Shocked, he turned around looking at his Best friend with wide eyes. “What?”, he just asked. “Well, you told me in fifth grade or so that you like her. I thought that might have changed, but by the way you look or just randomly stare at her, it’s just..”, JJ started. “Obvious, probably. But well, she is my Best Friend and don’t forget the rule, no Pogue-on-Pogue macking.”, he said, taking his eyes off JJ and back to you. “Yeah, well maybe you should just forget that rule.”, JJ said, before walking away. -

Two nights later, in the middle of the night, you were sitting outside in the hammock because you couldn’t sleep. The thought of Sarah and JOhn B running through your head because you saw them in those two days sneaking more often away than in the couple of years were you knew her.

“What are you doing up at four in the morning?”, you heard someone question from behind. You turned around to see Kie. “I might ask you the same thing.”, you said, giving her a little smile. “What’s going through your head?”she asked, climbing on the hammock next to you. The hardest part about all this, was that you didn’t tell anybody about this situation. You thought about it for a second, before deciding to let Kie in on the problem you have. “I might have a problem.”, you stated. “What is it?”she asked, looking at you. “I have a crush on two guys, the thing is they are both my Best Friends, and I first didn’t really realize that I have this crush on the other guy until I nearly lost him because of somebody. And I don’t know what to do. I liked the first guy first, but now that I realized that I also like the other I am just helpless. Like the one guy who has been my friend I have the longest, and I would be so sorry if I lose him not only as my potentially Boyfriend but also as my Best Friend whos been with me through thick and thin, but so did also the other guy.”, you could rip your hair out if it wouldn’t leave bald spots afterwards. “Well, that sounds like a fucked up situation.”, she stated. “I know and I’m just helpless.”, you stated throwing your head back. “Well, my Mom always told me something.”, Kie started. You just looked at her signaling her to keep going. “If you fall in love with two people, go with the second one. Because if you really loved the first one, you wouldn’t have fallen for the second one.”, she said, looking at you and taking your hand. You leaned against her butting your head on your shoulder. “And besides, what you and JJ have is not love, Not romantic love, it’s comfort.”, she said. You just nodded trying to let the words sink in. “But if you asked me, if you wanna hear it, I would tell John B.”, she said. “But what about Sarah, they sneaked away more in the past two days, than I saw them ever do in the last couple of years.”, you said. “Well, it’s all or nothing.”, she said. “I need just some time to think about it.”, you said, taking a deep breath. “Do it soon, before it’s too late.”, she just said.

Given the time now it’s been a week later, and you hadn’t had the nerve to tell John B about your feelings just yet. You either couldn’t find the right time or you just backed out like a chicken. But now you couldn’t back down, John B was alone at his boat, working on it, while Kie brought you to him. “Are you sure that this is right?”, you asked, nervous about this whole situation. “You’re doing the right thing.”, she said, squeezing your hand slightly. “Then why does it feel so wrong to me?” “Your probably just nervous, because he is your childhood best friend.”, she just said. “If something is wrong and you’re not in like half an hour back or wrote me a text, that everything is fine and you are good, I’m up here waiting in my car, alright?”

“Alright Mom.”, you said giggling slightly. With a rolling of her eyes she goes away, while you make your way down the path to him.

“Hey.”, you said, when you were sure he could hear you talk. “Oh, Hey, what’s up?”he asked, looking at you already knowing that something is up. “Nothing much, everything alright with the boat?”, you asked, while he helped you in holding your hand. “Yeah, I just checked up on her.”, he explained, handing you something to drink. “Alright.”, you just said, not knowing where to start. “So what do you wanna talk about?”, he asked. “What?”“Come on, I know you all your life, I can nearly read you like a book, I know when you have something going on.”, he said sitting down in front of you. “What are we to each other?”, it just slipped out of your mouth. “Well, you tell me, because for me you’re my Best Friend.”, he said, caught a bit off guard. You just nodded thinking of your next move. “Can I tell you something, this is probably going to ruin everything, but I need to tell you.”, you said. “Yeah sure, you know you can tell me everything.”; he stated, moving to sit next to you. “I..”, you began. “I’ve discovered I love you.”, you said, not moving your eyes from your can of Coca Cola. “When did you discover that?”, he asked, looking at you not really knowing what to say. “Since all my decisions started to revolve around you and after Topper nearly drowned you at the Kegger.”, you said, briefly looking up at him, before looking back down. “I probably did it always and just never realized that, but since I nearly lost you, it is just so much clearer now, and I know that you probably don’t like me back, and that was just some stupid Idea. Just forget what I said and do whatever you wanted to do. Like meeting up with Sarah or something, I don't know.”, you rambled standing up at the end wanting to go down from the boat. But you were stopped by a Hand grabbing your wrist. “Can I also say something to this?”, he asked. “You don’t need to say anything, when you don’t feel the same it’s okay. Then let's just stay friends, and forget about this. Just pretending like-”, you couldn’t stop your rambling, when a pair of Lips smashed on yours. Your first reaction was shocked not knowing what to do, but before you could respond, he just moved aways. “Why did you do that..?”, you asked with a high voice. “So you would shut up and listen.”, he said, with a smile on his face. “But what about..”, you started. “Listen, I don’t like Sarah, I like you.”, he said, but he still saw the hesitation in your eyes. “I love you alright, every single part of you. Even the parts you don’t like, got it?”he asked you, looking you in your eyes.

You felt the tears fill your eyes out of pure happiness, before you bring your lips together again feeling the puzzle pieces falling together, the invisible string between you two finally becoming solid gold.

#john b x y/n #john b imagine #john b routledge #john b x reader #john b x you #outer banks imagine #john b routledge x reader #john b routledge x you #john b routledge imagine #john b routledge x y/n #john booker routledge #writing-with-emy

63 notes · View notes

author-a-holmes · 19 days

Text

Heads Up, Seven Up Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @coarsely <3

Rules: Share seven recent lines you've written. Tag up to seven people (Or more, or less, Whatever you're comfortable with ^_^)

Gonna share some from Darkling today, so I'll pop it under a cut so that people can avoid spoilers.

And if this doesn't FEEL that close to the end of the story, that's because it's not. I've been working on adding an extra chapter between the current chapters 12 and 13 ;-)

Tagging forward to; @authoralexharvey @sleepyowlwrites @amewinterswriting @talesofsorrowandofruin @isabellebissonrouthier @cwritesfiction @theunboundwriter

And anyone else who wants to play, consider this an open tag ^_^ <3

“Then you must learn to fight as a vampire would.” “I’m about as good at that as [Redacted] is!” Booker snapped, and Lizzy flinched, surprised at the bitterness to his voice and although Olwen didn’t recoil the way Lizzy had, she went very still. One eyebrow arched slowly, and Booker backed down almost immediately, running both hands through his messy hair. “You want to place a blade in my hand and teach me to kill,” Booker muttered, and Lizzy’s breath caught as the pieces began falling into place. “And I… I can’t even lie and say I want you to. I don’t.” “Booker?” Lizzy asked softly, waiting until he looked at her, before reaching out unsteadily to touch his mind.

#Writeblr #Writeblr Community #Writing #Writing Community #Tag Game #Heads Up Seven Up #Heads Up 7 Up #Darkling #Darkling Spoilers #Darkling Snippet #Darkling Extract #Booker Reed #Lizzy Hail #Lila Isabelle Hail #Olwen Pryce

16 notes · View notes

faust-the-enjoyer · 5 months

Text

Masterlist

Started: 17/11/2023

Last updated: 18/4/2024

Detroit: Become Human:

Smut:

♡ Hank Anderson x reader:

Tight

Bioshock Infinite:

fluff:

♡ Booker DeWitt x reader:

Helping Fix Up His Wounds

Smut:

♡ Booker DeWitt x reader:

Loving Touch

Silent Hill/ Dead by Daylight:

Smut:

♡ Pyramid Head x reader:

Pyramid Head NSFW headcanons!

Appetite

Elden Ring:

Fluff:

♡ White-faced/White-mask Varre:

His Gentle Hands

Smut:

♡ White-faced/White-mask Varre:

Unblinking Eyes

Call of Duty:

Fluff:

♡ König x reader:

Sick

♡ Keegan P. Russ x reader:

Keegan+fluff!

Move Date Night!

A Sweet Home

Coffee

T-shirt (Dbf!Keegan)

Safe Haven

Sleeping in your arms

Black and Pink

Mascara

Colonel

♡ Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader:

Short ficlet

Binder

Sex Repulsed!Simon x Ace!reader

Promises

Blooming Love

Head-Turner

Promises

Platonic:

♡ Keegan P. Russ:

Nail polish

Smut:

♡ König x reader:

Care

Big Hands

♡ Keegan P. Russ:

Care

Gentle Touch

Kisses (part 1)

Kisses (part 2)

Drunk dbf!Keegan

Jump

Double Smash

Pink Heart

♡ Simon "Ghost" Riley:

Indulgence

♡ Keegan P. Russ x Logan walker x reader:

The best mentor

Resident Evil 4 remake:

Fluff:

♡ Leon S. Kennedy:

Rest

Series:

♡ Keegan P. Russ x reader:

A Moment of Joy (no order in the series):

Part 1

Part 2

OCs:

Ibtisam "Sam" Joud

-(heart divider by cafekitsune, other divider by saradika-graphics)!

26 notes · View notes

materassassino · 1 month

Text

Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Characters: Booker | Sebastien le Livre, Andy | Andromache of Scythia, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Booker | Sebastien le Livre's Wife, Various Daemons Additional Tags: dæmon AU, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials Fusion, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Misunderstandings, Team as Family, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, taboos and social mores and how to break them Summary:

Sébastien Le Livre has died and come back to life, and been saved by three mysterious and completely incomprehensible people. He doesn't understand them, or their dæmons, or the nature of the bonds between them.

Or how they might change him.

Preview:

Sébastien Le Livre was a married man. He knew how being lovers worked, had known since his wedding night, when Adèle had cradled Amandine in her cupped hands and kissed her tiny head, and Sébastien had let his fingers run across the smooth, soft expanse of Clarambaut’s colourful feathers. It had been more intimate than anything he’d ever felt before, a caress to his very soul. The pinnacle of it all. They’d made love before – and that was blatantly obvious despite attempting to hide it that they’d been… hasty – but that shared touch had been something altogether different. He’d felt it inside him, as if Adèle had reached inside and held his beating heart in her hand.

To touch another’s dæmon was the deepest of taboos. It was trust that ran deeper than any other trust ever could.

#the old guard #sebastien le livre #booker the old guard #joenicky #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #andromache the scythian #pixie writes #daemon au

14 notes · View notes

anosrepasi · 2 years

Text

So I said i was getting back into The Old Guard but also tumblr sandman content has infected me and this idea has been stuck in my head since i realized that i adored the character of Hob Gadling and thought, oh dude what a great character foil for another immortal character who goes through uhhhh, a lot of similar experiences but does no where near as well with it.

aka. What if Hob Gadling and Sebastien Le Livre became drinking buddies. Part two is here

Call it his age but Hob can’t help but feel that the world sends its boys to war now, rather than its men. The nations rally their youth to glory and service, in the name of queen and country, and ship them off to win the war on distant shores. Most come back in boxes.

He can only watch so much of that before he’s stopping by the nearest recruitment office and putting his latest fake name forward for the draft.

It’s a silly notion, that his presence can change the tide in what’s already being called “the great war.” He’s not looking to change the tide per say, but if he can save a few dumb kids who haven’t gotten the chance to live yet, well, then a few years invested in being a soldier again will be well worth it.

He’s got nothing pressing going on anyway, not for 76 years at the earliest.

So Hob Gadling fits the mantle of soldier back on his shoulders again, muddles through his training to neither fall behind or exceed expectations of a normal man his age, and gets himself shipped off to France to fight the Germans.

It goes as well as expected.

—

He cycles through units, and ends up staying near Ypres more often than not. His name mysteriously never ends up on the list for the men who’ve done their time on the front line and are reassigned to support or leave. He sticks close to where the fight is and doesn’t get friendly enough with anyone to cause an uproar about his lack of leave time.

He can’t die, better him here than somewhere else.

That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t start to recognize his comrades on rotation though.

They’re young fools, the majority of them. There’s an occasional old-timer like himself, and he can see the moment of recognition across the trenches when he’s stationed with someone else who’s seen war before. There’s a slight nod and that’s that.

As the war progresses however, it gets far more difficult to tell the old guard from the new. War ages a man, this one especially.

One of the boys in his present squad, down to five until more reinforcements can be brought in, cracks a joke one quiet morning that he’ll head home and be mistaken for his uncle when his parents meet him at the station. Hob hears a quiet scoff, “Better old than dead.”

His eyes glance up to the man on guard, a man around Hob’s age or slightly older. He’s quiet, keeps to himself in the week since he’s been rotated into Hob’s unit. He’s vigilant, in a way that Hob can respect as a man who’s more aware of his surrounds than he lets on.

“Cheers to the words of Private Book, wisest man this side of the western trench complex.” Hob runs his mouth without thinking and Book’s eyes flicker down to him before returning to his watch.

“Un sot trouve toujours un plus sot qui l'admire.” Private Book says quietly, and Hob can’t help but have his interest suddenly piqued by the quiet words.

The man quotes Doyle but with an accent far more perfect than any Englishman who had a primer in French. Maybe he’ll have someone interesting to discuss literature with out here after all.

—

The Germans get lucky and manage to aim one fucking shell near perfectly into the middle of their particular stretch of trench that evening.

Hob comes to surrounded by the overarching noise of active warfare and the contrasting silence of everything around him. The nearest allied trenches are occupied at the moment so he has a moment to collect himself and come up with a plan before he’s set upon by either his allies or trench sweepers.

His stomach twists and protests as instead he forces his lungs to cough up the blood and dirt mixed in his mouth and tries feebly to call roll. “Smith. Karlson. Book. Turner. Any of you make it?”

The dead do not answer and Hob sighs, cursing and shakily getting to his feet to survey the damage. It’s not good. He’ll have to move, but he stops by each body and gently closes their eyes or position them into some sort of posture of rest, rather than a tangle of limbs.

Its when he’s saying rights over Turner, bless the kid’s hopeful soul, that body next to him jerks and shudders back into life with a gasp.

Hob has failed to die many a time, but he’s yet to see someone else come back to life in all his years. Getting caught by surprise isn’t a necessarily ridiculous response. He falls back, away from the body- man?, on instinct and offers his own short curse when the body of Private Samuel Book sits up with a groan and sighs when it catches sight of its hand knitting the flesh back together on the side that caught the blunt of the shells explosion.

Samuel Book looks up and freezes when he catches sight of Hob, the next moment both men are speaking in unison, “How the fuck did you survive that?”

#my writing #Hob Gadling #sebastien le livre #Booker #will this become a fic? yeah probably #is it totally nonsensical? oh yes #but i think hob deserves more friends and would be a good influence on booker #will it change anything for either canon? oh no not at all #also woe is me i fucking hate war history and tactics and i had to google pretty much everything about the setting to write this intro #the sandman #the old guard #also! so many typos! I am heading to bed! I wrote this in an hour of hyperfixiation! I need to be up in like 6 hours form now!#please excuse the typos this is proof of concept!

290 notes · View notes

goldheartedsky · 1 month

Text

Okay but I cannot stop thinking about a fic where Andy calls up Booker halfway through their year apart and asks if he wants to get together. They end up in some cheap hotel somewhere warm, smoking weed, drinking, and hooking up, and it’s so normal that they end up talking about what it could be like if this was just how it was. And as much as Booker expects Andy to just laugh it off, she seems like she wants it even more than he does.

And after the weekend is over, they go their separate ways—Andy giving Booker a kiss and telling him, “See you in six months. Don’t be late.” But even when she’s gone, Booker’s still thinking about their late night talks and ends up calling a man whose initial offer he first refused.

Copley.

#the old guard #andy x booker #I desperately need this fic pls someone write it 😭

9 notes · View notes

sheafrotherdon · 2 years

Text

It was only when Netflix announced there would be more (great!) actors joining 2O2G that I realized my secret hope had been that the entire movie would be two hours of TOG and Copley sitting around a table and eating sandwiches, with breaks for Joe and Nicky to make out.

#tog #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #andromache the scythian #booker #nile freeman #quynh #copley #joe x nicky #I guess I have to write the movie I want to see?#hahahahahaha

217 notes · View notes

up-in-flames-writing · 1 month

Text

Fanfic showcase

Kill the part of you that cringes! What's a better way of getting over your own cringe than putting your heart on your sleeve?

Hi, hello, for all who don't know me, my name is Booker-Garet, I am a nonbinary transman & an author, & I write fanfic in my very limited spare time. Today I'm here to share with you four Team Fortress 2 fics linked in one way or another with transness, especially transmasculinity.

You want fluff? Here!

Are you in the mood for angst? This is the fic for you!

Have you been looking for some smut prominently featuring a transmasc character? I'm here to please.

Or are you here for some crack & attempted humour? This one is for you!

Hope y'all enjoy!

#booker writes #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 medic #tf2 heavy #tf2 scout #tf2 spy #tf2 sniper #tf2 soldier #tf2 demoman #tf2 pyro #tf2 zhanna #tf2 miss pauling #tf2 engineer #i am... not tagging all the ships here im sorry #team fortress 2

21 notes · View notes

ongreenergrasses · 9 months

Note

okay hear me out but for the first kiss prompts: Nicky/Booker + '' you kissed me first. '' '' i definitely didn't. ''

HEARD AND RECEIVED

It happens on a rainy day.

They’re watching football. It’s what they usually do when they’re bored and Booker is too lazy to engage in some sort of home improvement project in the safe house of the week. Nicky has politely joined him and Joe and is polishing his sword on the other end of the couch (he’s also bored out of his mind, Booker knows it) and Joe’s been sprawled on top of both of them, his head in Nicky’s lap and his feet in Booker’s. Booker half-assedly complained about it for about fifteen minutes, until the game got interesting, and then he could really complain, because Joe kicked him in the face out of excitement when Juventus scored.

Now Joe’s in the kitchen, banging around looking for food, and Nicky’s staring at him. Still polishing his sword.

You are so weird, Booker thinks. What actually comes out of his mouth is, “What are you staring at?” It sounds more accusatory than he means it to.

Nicky carefully sets the sword aside. Booker raises an eyebrow.

It happens so fast that Booker smashes his head into the arm of the couch. One second Nicky is still staring at him, so intently that Booker feels like a bug, and the next second he’s on top of him, giving Booker the worst kiss he’s ever had in his life. Their noses are pressed together, their teeth clacking. Booker reaches up with the intent to try and push him off, but ends up slinging an arm around his neck and tilting his head and things change after that, things go on a course from worst kiss in his life to one of the best.

Booker moves again to pull him closer, and then immediately realizes what he’s doing and shoves him off. Nicky just blinks at him.

“What the fuck was that?”

Nicky shrugs. “You kissed me first.”

Booker bursts out laughing. “I definitely didn’t.” He points at Nicky’s discarded sword. “You were all the way over there, and then you launched yourself at me - ”

“I did not launch myself at you - ”

“- and started kissing me for no reason at all - ”

“ - I had a very good reason, if you must know - ”

“And I - you what?” Booker stares at him. Nicky stares back, completely nonplussed. There’s no way anyone could tell what had happened, except for the way Nicky’s hair’s sticking up slightly in the back.

“I had a very good reason,” Nicky says, and then says nothing else.

Booker waits politely for what feels like five years, before he says “And?”

“And what?”

“Your reason?”

“Oh, that is for me to know.”

“You are so fucking weird,” Booker says, because he really can’t hold it back this time, and loops a hand around the back of Nicky’s neck to pull him down and kiss him again.

What the hell. He’ll roll with it.

first kiss prompts

#ask and you shall receive #goldheartedsky #the old guard #nicolo di genova #nicky #sebastien le livre #booker #nicky x booker #sometimes I think u do not all understand when I say I write every prompt. I will write every prompt. even if it’s months later. that is a #THREAT and a PROMISE anyway send prompts xoxo #goldie I hope you enjoy this 💜💜💜#prompts

16 notes · View notes

youssefguedira · 1 year

Text

missing fencing worlds so have this (set in a slightly different version of my regular fencing au but everyone's weapons are still the same)

Joe makes it to the final.

He beats the standing world champion 13-15, after a video review called by the Hungarian team – and they'd both been holding their breath as they waited for the result, Joe's heart beating so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of his chest – didn't succeed in getting the referee to award his opponent the point instead, and Joe makes it to the final. He's never made it this far before. Nobody on his team has made it this far in years. His hands are still shaking while he watches the bronze medal match, Hungary just narrowly beating Japan for the bronze.

When he checks his phone, there's a text waiting from Andy. Italy pulled silver in team. We saw the semi-final. You got this, Joe.

And from Nicky, simply: In bocca al lupo.

Joe doesn't get a chance to respond before his coach calls him over, and he turns his phone off and sets it aside.

He's not sure he fully believes what's happening – he's in a World Championships final – until he's walking back onto the piste, new sword in hand, trying to get himself back under control. He's already come incredibly far just to be here, as his coach reminds him before the match starts. All he has to do now is his best.

The first two points go to his opponent: French, currently ranked second in the world to Joe's 16th, a nice enough guy on the few occasions Joe's had to meet him. One of them is simply skill, the other is an oversight on Joe's part, and when the bout resumes Joe grits his teeth and forces himself to concentrate. It's nothing he hasn't done before in training. He can do this.

The next point is his, a neat hit to his opponent's wrist just as the other is starting to attack. Joe dodges away before his opponent's hit can land and the referee calls halt. He gets two more, then loses one, then manages another at the very end, a point that initially goes to his opponent but is turned over when Joe's coach calls for a video review and wins. She's got a sharp eye for that kind of thing. The first round ends 4-5 in Joe's favour.

The break isn't long enough for him to do more than have a quick drink and talk briefly to his coach, but when he looks over at the area where the rest of his team is watching, Nicky is there too. He's out of his kit by now, wearing a plain black hoodie and jeans instead of his team jacket. He catches Joe's eye right before the minute is up and offers him a small, reassuring smile.

(The rest of the team have never really asked about what Nicky is to Joe, and Joe's never volunteered the information, even if he's fairly sure most of them have caught on. None of them have ever showed any overt approval or disapproval – it's just something they don't discuss – but the fact that they're letting Nicky sit with them now is a show of support that makes him feel… he's not quite sure, yet, and he doesn’t have the time now to think about it.)

The start of the second round is better for him, at least, and he gets three points up in the first 30 seconds, all three just slightly too quick for his opponent to catch him in time. It's his main strength, and he knows it. But then his opponent gets one, and it breaks Joe's rhythm enough for him to lose another, and another, and another. He manages to get four in the end, but loses the round 4-6. It could be worse. It could be much worse.

"Don't lose your head, Joe," his coach tells him during the second break. "This is just another bout, understand? You can do this." He nods, once, and his coach claps him on the back. "Get out there and finish this."

Joe changes sword for the last round, so they have to re-test. His heart is racing, enough that he has to take slow, measured breaths in an attempt to settle it down. His coach is right: this is nothing he hasn't done a thousand times before. If he doesn't think about the stakes, this could be any other bout.

They're at 10 to 9 going into the last round, which is much better than Joe had ever dreamed of doing. As long as he stays he's focused, he has a chance, and that's what he thinks about as he pulls his mask on and steadies himself.

He starts by feinting an attack to the head and dropping his blade at the last second to hit his opponent's flank instead, which evens out the score, at least. The second goes to his opponent, Joe's parry coming just too late to block the attack. But then he gets the next two, and he's in the lead.

On the fourth point, they both hit: Joe's certain it's his, but the referee awards it to his opponent instead. His coach calls for a video review that doesn't change anything.

The fight goes on until they're both at 14 points in total. Whoever gets the next one will win, and Joe – Joe can do this.

He starts out fast, careful to make sure he is the one with the right of way going into the attack, and his opponent lunges but Joe steps back just enough that the sword misses and then he ripostes before his opponent can recover, and the light goes off, and the referee calls it, and the bout is over, and Joe wins.

Behind him, the rest of his team is cheering; the stands are, too, more people than he's ever fenced in front of before. He's certain he's shaking all over as he takes his mask off, as he fumbles with his bodywire and has to try three times to get the damn thing unplugged – his opponent is still standing there as if in shock – eventually his coach comes over to the piste to help him with the wire and set his sword to one side before she embraces him, saying something he can't quite make out over the roar of the stands, and then the rest of his team are surrounding him, all speaking at once, all clapping him on the back and hugging him and laughing, and he's certain there are tears in his eyes.

Then Nicky's there, too, hugging him tight and laughing. "World champion, Joe!" he half-shouts just to be heard, and Joe's half laughing, half crying as Nicky sways them both back and forth. When Nicky pulls back, he cups the back of Joe's neck, and Joe wants to kiss him so badly he aches but he can't, not here with all these people watching, with the cameras that are almost certainly still focused on him, because he won – so Nicky pulls him back in again, kisses his cheek before stepping away completely but staying close.

Then Joe has to go so they can set up the stadium for the medal ceremony, goes from the chaos of the main stadium to the quiet of the changing room, where the rest of the team congratulate him again before leaving him to take a moment to himself before the medal ceremony.

Alone, in the changing room, Joe calls his mother.

She picks up on the second ring. "Yusuf!" she cries excitedly, and Joe smiles even though she can't see it.

"Mama," he says, voice shaking just a bit. "Did you see?"

"I saw, I saw," his mother says. "I'm so proud of you, habibi."

Joe almost starts crying in earnest at that, manages to hold it back just enough to be able to speak. They don't talk for long – Joe is called back out for the medal ceremony a few minutes later – but his mother makes him promise to call again soon, when they can talk properly.

Joe does cry at the medal ceremony, unable to properly hold it in anymore, must look like a mess when the national anthem starts, manages to just about compose himself enough for the picture they take of him with his medal and his Champion du Monde certificate which he barely manages to hold still, his hands are shaking so badly. The team surrounds him again after the picture, all talking over him too quickly for him to process what they're saying, but they let him go after a little while with a promise to celebrate properly tomorrow, when the tournament ends.

He stops off at his hotel room just long enough to shower and change and check his phone (just a text from Nicky, reading We're at Andy's – see you soon.) He leaves the certificate but takes the medal with him, knows they'll all want to see it. Andy's team is on the floor above his, so it doesn't take long before he's outside the door.

Nicky is the one who lets him in before Joe's even had a chance to finish knocking, grins at him widely and tugs him inside by the hand, kicks the door shut behind him. Before Joe even has a chance to speak, Nicky presses him back against the door and kisses him the way he hadn't been able to earlier, long and slow like they've got all the time in the world, one hand cupping Joe's jaw to keep him steady, the other slipping under Joe's shirt to rest on the small of his back. Joe melts into it, looping his arms around Nicky's neck, and it feels like forever they stand there and at the same time it's barely a heartbeat before Nicky pulls back but doesn't, letting Joe rest his head on Nicky's shoulder instead. He doesn't say a word when Joe starts crying again, just strokes his hand over Joe's curls, kisses his temple and holds him tight.

"I told you you could do it, didn't I?" Nicky murmurs. "You owe me, now."

It's true – he'd bet Joe when they both arrived in Cairo that this would be his year, finally. Joe laughs, and it comes out sounding a little like a sob.

Evidently, the grace period afforded to them by the others ends then, because Nile appears in the doorway to the rest of the suite and nudges Nicky out of the way before hugging him so tight he almost can't breathe. "That was incredible, Joe!"

"Thank you, thank you," Joe says, laughing. Nicky watches them both with a soft, fond smile as Nile pulls back and leads him by the hand into the suite's sitting room where the others are waiting: Quynh and Andy in one of the armchairs, Quynh perched on the armrest with Andy's arm around her waist keeping her steady; Booker on the other with Lykon sitting in the middle of the floor. Joe takes the couch amid the excited chattering of the others, and Nicky sits down beside him, lifting his arm to let Joe curl into his side without being asked. Nile sits on Joe's other side, resting her legs against his.

"We saw the whole thing," Quynh says. "That last point was beautiful, Joe." Andy nods her agreement, and Nicky squeezes Joe's hand. Joe's grinning so wide it hurts.

"Show us the medal, then," Nile says. Joe obliges.

It's Nile's second Worlds, this year: she's the newest addition to their group, having narrowly beaten Andy for the silver medal after making it onto the US team for winning the college league. She's one of the favourites to win in women's individual foil, even above Andy, and they'll all be rooting for her tomorrow. The US team's already taken bronze in the team competition, losing against Andy's team to make it to the final. She's doing well this year.

"We knew you could do it," Lykon said. "France didn't have a chance. No offence, Book."

"None taken," Booker says good-naturedly, but immediately negates it by adding, "We'll beat you tomorrow anyway."

"Like hell you will," Lykon says. "I already beat you once, old man, I'll do it again."

"And that's tomorrow's problem," Andy announces loudly to cut off any arguments before they get going. "Tonight is for Joe, you two."

Joe loves them all so, so much. Andy produces a bottle of sparkling grape juice from the suite's minifridge, because they don't drink alcohol in the group anymore, both for Joe's sake and especially since Booker's return. She pours it out into the shitty plastic champagne flutes from the pack she'd brought with her when they arrived, anticipating this very scenario, and hands each one of them a glass.

"To the new world champion, then," she says then, smiling as she lifts her glass. "We're proud of you, Joe."

Joe doesn't trust himself to speak, so he just smiles as the rest of them echo her before they drink. After, Nicky kisses the top of his head, whispers, "I love you," quiet enough that the others can't quite hear, already bickering about one thing or another, and in that moment Joe is the happiest he's ever been.

#neon writes #fencing au #But Slightly Different This Time #this one may be fencing words heavy because i forget what is obvious and what is not oops #in terms of teams / other stuff:#tunisia does have a fencing team but they didn't get super far this year (cairo). i do what i want though #italy men's foil i think won the team competition this year. but again i edited things slightly #quynh wins gold in individual and team women's sabre #lykon and booker win gold and silver in individual épée respectively #i have more thoughts ive just forgotten them #userlinax #userlyde #the old guard #kaysanova #forgot to use main tags. im a fool

137 notes · View notes